by Julia Sykes
He shifted uncomfortably at the compliment. “I was more in my element, I guess.”
“I could tell. I know I was being an ass. Thanks for putting up with my shit and getting me out of there. You’re good at your job.”
His discomfort melted away as soon as the subject moved back to work. “If I was good at my job, we’d be on a plane back to New York right now.”
I rolled my eyes. “We covered this. Partners, remember? We’re going to kill Dimitri. Ring any bells?”
His jaw firmed. “Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated. Yes, I remember our agreement. And I’ll honor it. But I meant what I said about consulting me before you make a move. I need you to catch me up on everything you know so we can come up with a plan. We need to end this quickly. I can only dodge Kennedy for so long.”
“Speaking of Kennedy, why did he send you here?”
“I suppose he thought I was up to the task,” he said, somewhat affronted.
“No, I mean, why you? I don’t even know you. Why not Smith or Reed?”
His expression soured. “Reed Miller is busy doing other things. And Smith doesn’t want to leave his fiancé behind. He doesn’t like to be more than a couple of miles from her. It’s weirdly unhealthy, really.”
“They’re in love,” I said, almost sighing. The two were crazy about each other. I wanted that for myself. Well, I wanted it on the rare occasion when I forgot how love had completely fucked me over.
Dexter gave a sharp jerk of his head, as though shaking off some irritating thought. It occurred to me that his expression mirrored my own. Maybe love had burned him, too.
“Anyway,” I hastily moved past the unpleasant moment. “Do you know why Kennedy chose you? You’re not even in the New York unit, are you?”
“I’ve requested a transfer from Chicago. I think this is my entrance exam. And I’m failing, by the way. My job was to take you home, not join you on your insane quest for revenge.”
“It’s not about revenge,” I said sharply. “I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for all the women Dimitri has hurt. To save all the women he will hurt if he’s not put down. And you can’t pretend like it doesn’t piss you off that he’s trafficking his sick new drug through BDSM clubs. I saw you in Lash last night. You knew how to handle yourself. You’re a Dom. You want to stop Dimitri almost as badly as I do.”
He appeared taken aback. “That’s what he’s doing in London? Trafficking through BDSM clubs? I thought he had followed you to Lash, not the other way around.”
My lips curved in a smug smile. His confusion confirmed that I was several steps ahead of Kennedy and the guys in the New York unit. They couldn’t stop me if they couldn’t predict my next move.
“It started when the Latin Kings were using the BDSM club Decadence in New York for their cocaine trafficking,” I said. “They tried to make a deal with the Russians, and Dimitri was intrigued with the idea of using the fetish club as a front. He thinks he practices some twisted form of BDSM. Or at least I think pretending amuses him. It’s all part of his image. He wants to intimidate his people into remaining loyal, and he thinks posing as a Master makes him seem more powerful.”
A low growl sounded in the back of Dexter’s throat. I nodded in grim agreement.
“My thoughts exactly. You can see why I hate the fucker.”
“You said he’s trafficking a new drug through the clubs. What does it do?”
I grimaced. “It’s called Bliss. From what I can tell, its effects are like some combination of E and rohypnol. I’ve mostly seen it used recreationally, but it could easily be slipped in someone’s drink as a date rape drug. The user becomes fixated on sexual pleasure, and the drug supposedly enhances physical responses. Unlike with rohypnol, they remain hyper-aware of their surroundings. If it was used against someone, they wouldn’t be sure of what happened the next morning. They would remember everything clearly and never know for sure that they acted against their own volition. That’s another reason why Dimitri’s targeting fetish clubs. People are more likely to hook up. I think this is his testing ground before he moves the product on a global scale. He’s taken control of the regional factions of the Russian Mafia.”
“How the hell do you know all this?”
“I befriended the wife of a lower-level boyevik in the Odessa Mafia in New York. After I gained her trust, I told her I was NYPD and would arrest her and her husband if she didn’t give up Dimitri’s location. That’s how I tracked him to London. Once I got here, I checked out the BDSM clubs because of his behavior at Decadence on the night we busted the Latin Kings. I found out about Bliss quickly enough, and I identified potential members of Dimitri’s organization distributing it. That was three weeks ago. I’ve been frequenting the clubs ever since, trying to trap one of his men so I can get some answers about Dimitri’s exact location. Obviously, that didn’t work out so well.”
“Damn,” Dexter said with respect. “You did all this by yourself?”
“No one else was doing it,” I reasoned. “Kennedy wouldn’t let me on the task force because I was ‘too close to the case.’ So I didn’t really have any other option. I took an extended leave of absence from work and came here. They didn’t deny my request because I’ve suffered ‘psychological trauma.’” I put air quotes around the last, as though it was nothing of consequence.
He fixed me with an unnervingly intense pale blue stare. “The fact that you’ve done all this proves you’ve suffered psychological trauma.”
“Hey,” I said defensively. “I’m not the only one on the crazy train here.”
“At least I acknowledge my demons.”
I had nothing to say to that. Dexter was wrong. This was about saving people, not my own need for vengeance. But one look at his stony expression told me nothing would come of arguing with him.
“So what’s our next move?” I changed tack. “Back to the clubs tonight?”
“Dimitri knows you’ve been tracking him through the clubs. That’s a bad idea.”
“He told me he would be watching me. There’s no point trying to hide. The drug trafficking is my only lead on him. We’ll track the dealers and get one of them to talk.”
“Dimitri will see you coming from a mile away,” Dexter said with disapproval.
“Well, it’s a good thing you have my back, then.” I softened slightly. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me.”
His eyes hardened. “I promised Kennedy I would get you home safely. And if you honestly think I’m going to leave you here alone after what I saw last night, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”
I gave him a wry smile. “I think we’ve already established that I am.”
“Then it’s a good thing I am, too.”
“Are you seriously going to wear that? I thought you were a Domme.” Dexter’s brows practically disappeared into his blond hair as he studied my outfit.
I snorted and tugged down the ultra-short hem of my skin-tight black lace skirt. “I’ve been playing the part of shy subbie since I got here. I thought it would throw Dimitri off. Now all the regulars know me as a sub, so I can’t be my usual awesome self around them.”
He shot me a censorious glance. “Subs are awesome, too. My friend Katie is a sub, and she kicks ass just as well as any agent I’ve ever met.” The fondness that momentarily softened his features immediately twisted into something pained. He cleared his throat.
“I didn’t mean to throw shade on subs,” I amended. I just don’t like being a sub. Not anymore. My submissive side made me weak, vulnerable. I had left it behind along with my ex-husband.
“Throw shade?”
I eyed him suspiciously, uncertain if he was trying to make a joke again. His nonplussed expression told me he wasn’t.
“Do you even use the internet?” I asked. “Throwing shade means I’m being disrespectful in a circumspect way.”
He shook his head slightly. “How can you use words like circumspect
and talk about something as absurd as throwing shade in the same sentence?”
I lifted my chin. “I’m gifted like that. Now come on, Neanderthal, we’re going to be late.”
I glanced down at myself and tucked my breasts further into my lace bustier. To Dexter’s credit, he didn’t stare at my chest.
“I have a name you know,” he said pointedly.
“Okay, let’s go, Dexter.”
He winced. “Dex. It’s Dex.”
Touchy. I took a mental note of it. It might come in handy for teasing him in the future. The brooding man looked like he could use a laugh, and particularly to learn to laugh at himself. He was far too tense and uncomfortable in his own skin. It had become more obvious as the day went on. He constantly shifted, as though uncertain what to do with his huge body.
Now that man was gone, and the hulking, confident Dom was back in his leathers. He really was in his element and in control.
We both slipped on our coats to hide our kinky clothes and stepped out into the perpetual London drizzle to hail a cab. Within fifteen minutes, we were pulling up at the docks and paying our taxi fare.
“This is a club?” Dex asked, pausing in the shadows to confer with me before going in.
“No, it’s an annual party they hold on this ship. It’s supposed to be huge. I’m sure someone will be passing Bliss around.”
“I’ll stick close to you,” Dex promised.
“No,” I refused. “I’m grateful for you having my back, but I didn’t mean that quite so literally. We should split up. We’re more likely to attract partners if we go in as single friends.”
He eyed me with disapproval. “You said Bliss can be used for date rape. What if someone slips it to you?”
“What if someone slips it to you?” I challenged. “I might be playing the part of the sub, but don’t think for one second that you get to go all alpha-protective Dom on me.”
“I’ll remind you that I found you beaten and tied up just last night, so don’t you think for one second that I’m leaving you alone and vulnerable.”
“Okay,” I conceded. “We stay within visual range of one another. No going off on our own with strangers. And neither of us does anything stupid like accept an open drink. It’s Fieldwork 101. Not difficult.”
He gave me a curt nod. “If you disappear on me, I’ll assume the worst. So stay in my sight line or I’ll come tearing after you. Then your cover will be blown and you’ll have no choice but to come home with me.”
“Um, yeah. About that. Dimitri kind of said he would kill me if I try to leave London. Or, you know. Something worse. General bad guy threats.” I tried to sound flippant.
“What?” Dex barked.
“So I can’t leave,” I continued on, matter-of-factly. “Not until this is finished. So please don’t ruin my cover. I need to be able to move through the club scene without anyone noticing something’s off.”
He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “This is absolutely fucking insane. We should contact Kennedy. He can arrange a safe house for you until the Brits take care of Dimitri. We’ll give them what you’ve found and-”
“No! Don’t you dare take this from me. You said you understood. You promised to be my partner.” My voice held a pleading edge. “I’ll lose everything if they find out what I’ve been doing. My career will be over. I need my job, Dex. It’s all I have left.”
He was silent for a long, grim moment. “All right. I need the job, too, and I guess I would be in the same shit storm as you at this point if I turned you in. That doesn’t mean I like this, though.”
“I’m not exactly enjoying myself here,” I countered. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I had another choice.”
The ship’s horn blared merrily, signaling the start of the festivities.
“That’s our cue,” I announced, putting an end to the disconcerting conversation. “Let’s get on board before it leaves without us.”
His mouth pressed to a thin slash, and he offered no response. He began to walk toward the boat in sullen silence.
“Cheer up, caveman,” I said with false brightness. “It’s a party.”
He snorted, but his lips tugged up in a cocky a smile. I had to hand it to him: he knew how to handle himself in the field. He wasn’t letting his own emotions mess with his cover image. The confident Dom was back. He somehow seemed to grow even more massive as his sense of calm control slipped back into place. The lifestyle suited him.
I plastered on my own anticipatory grin and looped my arm through his, keeping a platonic distance between our bodies as we climbed the steps to enter the ship. Inside was decked out for a rollicking kinkfest. The dance floor was already dotted with gyrating couples, and soft squeals and grunts emanated down the stairs that led up to the play space level. If I had come to party, I would be in heaven.
We shrugged out of our jackets and left them at the coat check, revealing our kinky outfits. My eyes roved over the crowd, searching for a Dom who looked like he might be partying too hard. I needed to find a user and then ask for his dealer. If I was successful, it shouldn’t be too long of a chain to make it back to one of Dimitri’s men distributing the product. If one of them was on board, it wouldn’t be difficult to trap him. He would have nowhere to go but overboard if he wanted to avoid us.
Us. After months of working alone, it felt strange having Dex at my side. But I couldn’t deny that his hulking presence was reassuring. I knew how to fight, but I couldn’t match his brute strength.
It was time to separate. We stepped into the rowdy crowd, and my gaze landed on a lanky Dom who was swaying slightly, his brown eyes hungrily watching the subs making their way to the bar. He hovered near it, no doubt waiting to buy a drink for a potential partner.
I nudged Dex with my elbow. “I’m going to the bar,” I said with a pointed glance at my target. Dex extricated his arm from mine and nodded his agreement.
“I’ll check the dance floor. Don’t leave this level.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied sardonically.
He shook his head at me and walked away.
I wound my way through the thickening crowd. The party would soon be in full swing. I planned to trace Dimitri’s man as quickly as possible to give me more time with him before the ship docked again.
The horn sounded a second time. In just a few minutes, we would be out on the Thames and there would be no escape for Dimitri’s lackeys.
When I reached the bar, I positioned myself a few feet away from the skinny, dark-haired Dom. I waited for him to look my way and then gave him a flirtatious smile. A lazy grin broke out on his face, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. He sauntered up to me immediately. I recognized the predatory gleam in his feverish eyes, and a quick glance at his crotch revealed a raging hard-on straining at his leathers. If he was on Bliss, he was likely aching to fuck.
“Like what you see?” He asked gruffly, noticing the direction of my gaze.
I batted my lashes at him. “Definitely.”
“I’m James,” he offered, extending his hand.
“Clara.” There was no point lying about my name anymore. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You’re American!” He identified my accent with glee. So far, several British men seemed particularly excited when they realized this. I was beginning to suspect they assumed I was a dumb slut. I carefully hid my displeasure.
“Yeah. I’m just visiting from New York. I love London! You guys know how to party.” I giggled for good measure.
“You want to party, love?” He asked excitedly.
“Sure,” I beamed. “What did you have in mind?”
“He was just thinking of leaving,” an impossibly deep voice cut in from behind me. I recognized it instantly. Dread filled my gut as I slowly turned to face him. Navy blue eyes glared down at me.
Oh, shit.
Chapter 4
I shrank back under the weight of his glare. Why did this infuriatingly sexy Dom keep pushing his way onto my op?
First, he almost cock blocked my shot at Roman, and now he was trying to separate me from my first lead of the night. I summoned up my own stony stare.
“No,” I declared, taking a step closer to James. “He’s not leaving. We’re talking. This is none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business,” the Dom rumbled.
“What’s your deal?” I demanded, exasperated. “I already told you. Not interested.”
James slipped a possessive arm around my shoulders. The feel of his clammy hand against my bare flesh made my skin crawl.
“You heard the lady,” he said, his voice imbued with cocky satisfaction. “Fuck off, tosser.”
“The only tosser here is you,” the handsome stranger responded coldly. “Go jerk off somewhere else. And take your hand off her before I make you.”
His impressive muscles flexed, his bare chest showing off his intimidating size. The man could have been carved from granite. Everything about him was hard: his voice, his chiseled face, his defined abs. I swallowed. So did the little worm beside me. His arm left my shoulders as though I had burned him, and he backed away hastily.
My would-be savior jerked his chin toward the dance floor. “Clear off,” he ordered. “I don’t want to see you near another sub tonight.”
James scowled, but he dropped his eyes and stomped off.
“I’m Hugh,” the blue-eyed Dom stated.
I straightened my shoulders. “I don’t care.”
“You should,” he said reprovingly. “I just saved your rather petite arse.”
“I didn’t need saving. I know what I’m doing.”
His hand closed around my upper arm, squeezing slightly in warning. Something clenched deep inside me.
“If that’s true, then you’re in quite a bit of trouble, pet. Do you know how dangerous it is to play with a partner who’s high? Or were you planning to partake yourself?”
Shit.
I widened my eyes in a show of innocence. “What are you talking about?”